Merlin Games Gift Exchange Fic
Prompt for Historical #2 - All I want for Christmas is a drawble or a drabble based on this prompt: Merlin/Uther, Christmas cuddles Word Count: ~1900
As there are four teams in the Merlin Games I thought that I would write a ficlet for each team style and mix it up a bit - hence, of the four fics: * two are in present tense, two in past * one gen, two established relationships and one first time * one angst, one fluff, one dark (noncon), one Australian * one Arthur POV, one Uther and two Merlin POV
YES - THERE IS NON-CON IN THE THIRD FICLET. No other warnings other than possible underage for the third and fourth ficlets because Merlin's age is not stated. In my head Merlin is at least 18 but I don't make that clear.
Four Times Merlin and Uther Cuddled for Christmas
CANON VARIANT (ANGST) - This is set in the early part of Season 4.
Outside the snow is drifting slowly past the window, settling into all the nooks and crannies of the towers, dusting the window ledges lightly. It won't last - soon the snow will stop and the sharp wind will return to blow any remaining snowfall away - but for now the silver sky is a pale backdrop for the falling snowflakes.
Uther sits in his usual chair, and his eyes are on the window but Merlin cannot tell whether he is seeing the snow or not. Gwen has gone out for a breath of air - or, more probably, a quick kiss and cuddle from the Prince - and Merlin has come to sit with the King, bringing with him the scent of ginger and cinnamon. He'd been helping in the kitchen but they have an unspoken agreement, the five of them, that Uther will not be abandoned to strangers, however difficult he becomes. Gaius and Merlin, Gwen and Arthur, and Uther's manservant, Job, divide the duties between them.
Job handles most of the nights, only occasionally calling for Arthur or Gaius when Uther becomes more difficult than usual. Arthur spends the least time there; his duties have increased as the King's have dropped away. Gwen is in attendance for most of the daylight hours, relieved at times by Merlin when he can get away from his own duties and by Gaius, who sits with Uther for an hour every evening while the others eat their dinner.
As the wind picks up, Uther becomes more and more restless. "Is it Yule yet?" he asks, yet again.
"No, Sire, not yet," Merlin replies. Uther shivers in his cloak but Merlin knows that he is not cold. The King's chambers are kept very warm.
Uther picks at the gingerbread, fresh from the oven, that Merlin brought for him. His fingers dig into the pretty cut-out star shape, rubbing the crumbs so that Merlin wants to take the food away from him if he is not going to eat it. A few bites make it to Uther's mouth but he is not really interested.
"Is it Yule yet?"
"Not yet, Sire." Merlin sighs. "Two more days."
The King is silent.
"Ar.. Prince Arthur took the knights out yesterday to bring in the Yule Log," Merlin says into the silence. "It's a big one this year. They went all the way up to the ridge for it - took a dozen oxen to get it across the valley, and all the men helped to pull it into the Great Hall ..."
"Ygraine used to ..." Uther interrupts.
"At this time of year she ..." The King twists his fingers. "She always ... There were decorations and we would dance. She loved this time of year. Too cold, I always said but she ..."
Merlin realises that Uther is shaking, his head dropping to his knees.
"She ... I miss her." At first the words are a whisper, then a moan as he repeats them, "I miss her. Every day, she isn't here, I miss her." Now the words are rising to a shout. "I want her back! I miss her!"
Merlin looks around helplessly, then reaches out a tentative hand to place on Uther's arm. "She would be here if she could, I'm sure."
The King huddles in on himself, rocking to and fro in his chair, "Where is she? She should be here!"
Merlin moves to kneel beside the distraught man, cautiously putting an arm around his shoulder. It's what his mother would do. "It's all right, it will be fine. Arthur will come soon, and Gaius will come to sit with you for dinner. We're having roast duck this evening - it smells really good."
Letting the stream of soothing babble slip from his mouth, he rocks with his weeping companion, his eyes fixed unseeing upon the darkening sky outside.
It's awful, it's tragic, it's obscene that Merlin has to comfort this man, this tyrant who would light his pyre as soon as look at him if he had the faintest idea of who and what Merlin is - yet Merlin cannot help the tears which rise to his eyes as the broken man in his arms keens softly over a loss which is more than twenty years past.
There comes a time when Uther straightens, pushing aside Merlin's consolation as if it had never happened. He looks out into the darkness of Camelot's night for a long time before his attention turns back to Merlin.
"Is it Yule yet?" he asks.
Merlin shifts in his chair, his breathing slow and deep.
"Not yet, Sire," he replies quietly. "Not yet."
MODERN AU VARIANT (FLUFF)
"Merlin!" Arthur called.
His assistant's shaggy head popped into view around the corner. "Yes, Arthur?"
Arthur sighed. "We're at work, Merlin."
Merlin's eyes rolled. "If you want me to call you Mr Pendragon you should call me Mr Emrys, then!"
"You're my assistant, Merlin. Assistants get called by their first name, bosses get called Mister."
Merlin's face showed his deep suspicion of this generalisation but before he could point out that Morgana's assistant, Gwen, called her Morgana, and Gwaine called Leon, Leon, Arthur's phone rang.
"Pendragon! Yes, Father. Of course, Father. I am well aware, Father..." Arthur stared at the phone before replacing it in the cradle.
"You can go, Merlin. Apparently as it is Christmas I am to let you go early..."
Merlin was already halfway out the door.
"Early start next week, Merlin!" Arthur called after him. "We have time to make up!"
He really did need to get those papers on his desk over to Morgana's office before he left, though. Arthur sighed as he retrieved them from his out tray and prepared to carry them over himself. He tried to avert his eyes as he passed the plate glass window of his father's office. He wished it were a novel sight to see Merlin sitting astride his father and kissing him enthusiastically, but by now it really wasn't. Although the shirtlessness and Santa Hat were.
Morgana met him at that point. The vulgar wench probably enjoyed the view.
Uther's hand was going to leave bruises on Merlin's arse if he kept doing that. Merlin didn't seem as if it worried him, though - quite the contrary.
"Merry Christmas, Arthur!" Morgana chirped cheerfully without looking even slightly in his direction.
"Ho ho ho," Arthur returned glumly. "See you tonight at Uther's?"
"I'm looking forward to it!" she carolled.
Yes, Arthur could see that she was.
HISTORICAL AU VARIANT (DARK)
The madrigals drift gorgeous harmonies up to the towers as Uther pulls Merlin into his lap.
"Shall I kill you today, little sorcerer? A Solstice present for Igraine?"
Merlin regards his ankles.
"Or do you have a Yule gift for me?" Uther smells of mead as he tugs at Merlin's clothes and obediently Merlin removes his tunic, the only garment he is wearing aside from the intricately worked gold collar around his narrow neck.
Uther runs a possessive hand over Merlin's body, the fingers of his other hand lodged firmly in Merlin's hair. "It's not new, little sorcerer. What can you offer me that is new?"
"You know I have nothing," Merlin mumbles.
"Not even your magic, any more," Uther says mildly. "Perhaps I should re-name you 'Little Serf' or 'Little Fucktoy'.
Merlin's eyes flare, but he says nothing. The bruises around his mouth and chin indicate that he is not always as restrained, but tonight he is wary of the King's mood.
Abruptly, Uther shoves him to the floor. "Go on then, give me what you have," he says, slouching back in his chair. His hand goes out to his goblet as Merlin shuffles between his legs and unlaces the King's breeches, but as soon as he is hard he pulls Merlin's hair again. Merlin rises and straddles the king, one hand reaching behind him to guide Uther's wet prick inside his prepared arse.
"Yes," Uther says, low and deep. The danger has passed and Merlin can let his guard down a little. Now remains only the tedious task of bringing the King to completion. Merlin rises and sinks, rises and sinks. His thighs ache but this is a customary task and Merlin knows not to stop or change his pace without orders. Finally, finally Uther grasps his hips and takes control for the final frantic moments before he grunts and spurts his load into Merlin.
Merlin sags shakily for a moment before he moves to get off, but Uther unexpectedly holds on, pulling Merlin forward and sideways so that he is lying on Uther's chest, his head pillowed on Uther's collarbone and his legs coming up to curl under his chin, his feet wedged into the arm of the chair. He can hear Uther's heartbeat under his head.
They lie there together, undisturbed, for a long time as outside the bells chime the night away.
REINCARNATION VARIANT (AUSTRALIAN)
Morgana dunked Arthur viciously in a spray of salt water, only to gasp as a flailing hand pulled her under with him. She came up again gasping, but laughing, and without pausing jumped on the back of an incautious Gwen.
Under his umbrella by the sand dunes Uther chuckled at the horseplay of the children in the waves before returning to his book. Only the feel of a few stray droplets from Merlin as he threw himself onto the beach towel beside him diverted his attention from the latest Peter Corris novel which had been a Christmas gift from Gaius.
"Back so soon?" he asked vaguely, his mind still roaming the mean streets of Sydney.
"I think I'm beginning to go crispy at the edges," Merlin admitted. "Would you give me a hand with my back?"
Uther admired the long lean back stretched out for his delectation. "My pleasure, Merlin." Carefully marking his place he took the bottle of sunscreen and squeezed a large dollop onto the centre of Merlin's spine.
"Cold?" Uther smirked, beginning to spread the sunscreen across Merlin's surprisingly wide shoulders.
"Not so much," Merlin said breathlessly. His muscles under Uther's hands were tense. Uther laughed.
"I see," he drawled, deliberately slowing his strokes, making them deeper and more sensual. Merlin's breathing became distinctly erratic, seeming to cease altogether as Uther's hands roamed purposefully over the planes of his back and dipped to the top of his shorts, then slightly under the waistband.
"I wouldn't want you to get burned if your shorts slipped down," Uther explained.
"Nn..no," Merlin admitted.
"Need help with the front?" Uther offered, his hands smoothing the hollow of Merlin's back one last time before he took them away.
Merlin was silent a long moment before he glanced over his shoulder. His wet hair dripped onto his shoulders, his lip was caught between his teeth and his long lashes framed startlingly blue eyes as they contemplated the man beside him. Uther regarded him solemnly.
"Yeah?" Merlin ventured.
"Come here, then."
Uther arranged them so that Merlin's back was resting against Uther's chest before dripping some more sunscreen onto Merlin's collarbone.
"Convenient," Merlin said softly. Uther's answering chuckle rumbled through Merlin's body as his hands came around to begin their torturous journey across Merlin's chest and stomach.
"Enjoying your Christmas, boy?" Uther asked.
"Oh yeah," Merlin said, letting his head drop back onto Uther's shoulder. "It's been great. And I have a feeling that Boxing Day is going to be even better."